Take It All
by WonderousPlaceForAnEcho
Summary: Rachel's successful on Broadway. What happens when Quinn thinks she's pulling away from their relationship?


Author's Note: This is a one shot, my wonderful, brilliant, creative friend is too busy to write is, but its her concept so if you want-send a message to ohtheclevernessofyou. On the way to and from NYC we discussed glee-its good points and bad at some point we discussed love and she said "I'm terrified of it, but its all I want" and it was so poetic and just great. And reminded me of how Rachel Berry says she wants everything too much. This is a dramatic story, the focus is on dialog. Its bitter, its emotional, its what I prefer to write. Based after the song Take It All by Adele. (The song isn't mentioned in the story.) Thank you and I hope you enjoy at least some aspect of this. This is a story about two people who need to fight (not physically) to keep what they have.

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><p>"Goodluck."<p>

Rachel looked her over. Quinn was always polite, but the longing in the hazel eyes..._that was new. Or was it?_ She thought as she tilted her head to the side. The blonde looked stunning but the broadway star had to go.

Quickly she kissed her girlfriend, breathing her in at the skin near her neck as her lips lingered over her cheek.

And again Rachel left, void of an invitation to her show. She would perform her heart out, exquisitely exclaim to New York City how powerful she was. At least that's what Quinn felt when she was offered the chance to see her girlfriend perform. If she had known years ago that Rachel would someone become even more talented she would have prepared herself, glee club hadn't readied her enough. Rachel was amazing as a teen, she was stunning and could stop a person's heart, leaving them to feel overwhelmed as she performed.

The blonde took a seat at their open kitchen, looking at the black marble, and getting lost in the tiny silver specks. Her body ached, she stiffly rolled her neck before the singer came back. While The Rachel Berry was gone she thought over the last years. She loved that with the winter came the excuse to lay completely against the smaller woman without feeling clingy. She loved that Rachel stole her body heat. She didn't love that her arms ached, as though her appendages were becoming ghosts, yearning to hold her girlfriend but feeling air and cold sheets.

Quietly the brunette came in. Seeing Quinn at the counter she wanted to rest a hand on the pale neck. It was one of her favorite body parts on the blonde, lean and elegant. After Quinn persued her relentlessly and with a natural charm after they met up through mutual friends in the city and stealing kisses in her dressing room Rachel quickly realized that she loved kissing the editor's neck. Part of her couldn't decide what she loved more-kissing her skin or leaving marks to show the world that she was attached.

Now...now Quinn looked tense and Rachel refrained from giving the slightly older woman a massage. In the back of her head the brunette was screaming, warning her something was about to fall apart. Or maybe it was her sixth sense. Steadying her voice that felt trapped in her throat she stood in front of the blonde.

Quinn always calmed her, made her "crazy, dramatic, endearing, broadway attitude," as the blonde repeatedly called it, settle into a humble maturity as their relationship evolved. Before fans she was large smiles, laughter and glamorous, with Quinn she still felt beautiful in a tank top and shorts. Quinn called her pretty girl as they were waking up, she would kiss her on the cheek to dispell any nerves before Rachel had to go on stage the first few shows after she made it on Broadway and wasn't used to the transition. And now there was nothing, she didn't remember the last time her girlfriend kissed her.

"Quinn, what's wrong?" God she was scared of the answer, but she was Rachel Berry, fearless in so many shocking ways. She watched as the blonde swallowed, her neck muscles rippling in a wave.

"Rach, I've been your number one fan even before you hit broadway," she stated factually. "I love that role," she added softly, "but I also want to be your girlfriend."

"I'm right here," Rachel said as a frown passed over her tan face.

"We see each other eight hours of the day, to sleep..." she trailed off, annoyed that it was true.

"You think this is one sided? Quinn, I can't fall asleep without you. You're asleep before I get back or from a cast party."

The taller woman scoffed bitterly.

"What was that for?" Rachel asked curiously, cluelessly.

"You think I don't want to show you off? I may have mellowed a bit, but I still like people to know you're mine," she said with an unwavering gaze.

Rachel saw the passion again, god she missed it, but Quinn had seemed closed off for weeks. And again the silence hurt. It felt like inflictions, the absence of Rachel's ramblings were harsh, foreign and unlike them. Her verbose dialog was something she grew to love.

Hell. She felt suffocated and turned to leave. This was exactly what she didn't want.

"Don't walk away from me Quinn Fabray,'' her voice edging towards a yell.

"Why not?" She challenged back, her voice rising.

"We've been together for several years. We should talk." her tone softened back to her normal pitch.

"Six." She said concretely, clearly still annoyed. "And we haven't talked in weeks, so I don't want to be yelled at. No thank you." She added.

Rachel stood dumbfounded. Quinn had given up, she'd pulled out, she was emotionally half way out the door.

"You've given up. I never took you for a quitter Quinn," she said sadly, infinitely sad and Quinn again felt like she was disappointing Rachel.

"For the first time in a long time you're dead wrong." She sighed._ I'm afraid of losing you_. "My dreams aren't going to come true. No wedding, no kids with you, no happy ending...and god Rachel I want those things with you so don't assume it means nothing from my reaction." And finally there was a hint of emotion. Quinn was still in that stoic, statuesque figure."I've been without you for months," she said in a broken voice as she dropped her gaze to the floor. "Some things can't be fixed Rachel."

"Not with that attitude they certainly can't," she said with hands on her hips. This was painful, Quinn loathed that they were having this conversation. She was the queen of many things and avoidance was one. Looking at Rachel she couldn't stop herself from thinking the well known, tiny diva was such a force; a commanding woman who when her mind was set on something she achieved it. "I want to talk about this," the brunette said concretely. "What do you want to do?" She asked the blonde, lowering her tone.

Quinn looked torn. Ready to leave their apartment, their home, but she seemed liked a marble tree, impossibly hard to move and rooted to the floor.

"I want to kiss you," she admitted in a pained whisper, her thoughts betraying that Rachel would allow her, that she deserved to, that they could kiss naturally and that it wouldn't be a farewell.

All her energy was gone, tension was still palpable, and a headache forming as a direct side effect. She just had a body at this point. Emotions were pulled out of her body from a small brunette. Everyone thought Quinn was the strong one; the woman who called the shots. It came with the assumption that was implied with her work. She was young and a head of a department with her office overlooking the city skyline. It was her passion to read and she had ruthlessly, while channeling her former Cheerio persona rose in the ranks to head editor of a prestigious and well respected publishing company.

If people spent more than five minutes watching the couples' interactions they would always be proven wrong. Rachel had the power. She held all the cards.

Moving to the living room, closing her eyes and saying in a robotic tone,"I'll sleep on the couch," was the breaking point for the smaller woman. She needed Quinn, she missed the fierce Quinn, the one who would gently place her hand on her lower back and glare at anyone who was either rude, lacking a censorship when around Rachel as they became awestruck or too physical to her liking. She missed their Sunday brunches when the blonde would mock her for vegan pancakes and calling her "insane for making a perfectly fluffy breakfast staple healthy!" The exact words were still firm in her memory, having found it adorable how quirky her girlfriend was being as she acted appauled until the subtle smirk made itself known as she contently ate the singer's creation.

Who was this Quinn? Over the years and in high school Rachel had seen many sides to the enigmatic blonde, but the defeated one in front of her that looked so painfully wooden and beautifully frail all at once was a stranger.

The brunette sighed, realizing there was some consistency to the mystery that was Quinn. _There's some familiarity_. She thought. _She's still complicated. _

"Quinn, come to bed," she said without room for debate; a tone Quinn considered to be Rachel's "wife-tone." Though she never voice it. She didn't want to alter it, make Rachel self-conscious of it or for the sake of her sanity-she didn't want the emotional woman so know she'd do anything she wanted when Rachel spoke in that soft, yet demanding voice.

"No," she tried feebly and was met with an angry Rachel Berry.

"I'm appauled that you're giving up." The undertone was clear: don't you care enough to fight for us/don't you love me?

Adjusting her tone she tried again. "We're both exhausted, but we're going to discuss this. Laying down in bed if we must. I will not go to bed angry at you," she finished slightly exasperated as she narrowed her eyes, daring the former cheerleader to adopt her head bitch in charge personality.

Turning to their bedroom she walked down the hallway, hearing Quinn get up from the couch as her senses were acutely tuned into the blonde who looked weary as Rachel slid into bed. Pulling back the covers on the taller woman's side she looked her over. Really took her in.

_Was she going to a funeral or is it too appropriate that she's wearing black to represent the death of our relationship? _A smirk almost formed on her lips. She was born to be an actress with her dramatic thoughts.

The zombie-like woman made her way to her side of the bed but Rachel shook her head, "no, come here." She swung her tan legs over to the side, already in her short sleepwear since Quinn took her time to join her.

It was surprising the blonde aquiesed and slowly moved to stand between Rachel's legs, their knees grazing until the inside of the brunette's thighs softly kept her in a hold. Not able to stop herself-having always loved to feel the ex cheerleader. Her muscle definition had never gone away, even after months of reassuring her she didn't have stretch marks and was indeed the most beautiful girl she knew...she hesitantly removed the black shirt.

Once the shirt was gone she frowned at being greeted by a light grey tank top. Knowing it had a built in bra and knowing Quinn wouldn't have a traditional bra under it she chose to keep it on. Gathering every gram of willpower in her body to only slip a hand under the fabric and feel the skin on the taller woman's back she sighed. The connection almost hit her in the gut-how much she needed it. How tactile they were together with the desire to feel Quinn, smell her skin, kiss near her jaw, and nuzzle into her neck. It was always so comfortable to be with Quinn. They had a history, that had potential, they had an understanding and on a visceral level they balanced one another.

Rachel refocused her thoughts as hands were gently placed on her small shoulders to steady herself as she her Quinn closer with a heavy want in her eyes. Quinn would always be what she wanted. At the moment it felt desperate, craving her, wanting to devour her and being that she was an artist and expressed what she wanted, wore her heart on her sleeve, she leaned up as she pulled Quinn down, finding it fair to meet her half way as she gave into every urge to kiss the blonde.

She was fully aware, too aware of the fact that Quinn was kissing her as though she were delicate. Rachel wasn't breakable, but in the back of her mind she knew her girlfriend was being overly considerate because Quinn felt raw, she felt stripped and removed from any stable foundation she thought they had. Sometimes Quinn was look a book to her and in that moment didn't need to say words. Every kiss and touch spoke of her thoughts. The editor was hesitant, she was grazing Rachel's skin with her fingertips, a look of intense concentration on her face as she tried to memorize everything. It was odd how suddenly Rachel felt like a book that Quinn was trying to insert into her being, absorb the beauty of the meaning and take in every word. All that was missing were the blonde's glasses she'd wear when she brought her work home and sat in the livingroom with tea and manuscripts around her, fully immersed in their message.

Rachel pulled Quinn on top of her. Her long legs naturally opening so Quinn could fit between them, over her, weighing her down so she didn't feel like she was going to float off-a feeling the taller woman always made sure to inspire in the singer. The feeling that death would be near if she didn't fall over the edge. The irony not lost to Rachel at how much control Quinn had over when it was just the two of them, her focus on the blonde, unbridled and Quinn's essence was unadulterated, poised like a wild animal set to attack until after she was like a spoiled cat, stretching in bed, very pleased with herself. Rachel even loved smug Quinn and the slightly arrogant one that came out when she'd make love to Rachel to the point that Miss Broadway, stamina extroidinare would pass out.

She felt wetness hit her face. Where was that coming from?

Opening her eyes she saw Quinn's were shut and tears were slowly falling onto her own face and sliding down over a tan collar bone. Rachel shivered seeing how Quinn seemed so damn broken, like she had to give her up. Rachel stopped moving her fingers, stilled her hand and slowly withdrew from Quinn's pants. The blonde was more than ready to make love to her, she could feel it, there was evidence, but Rachel wanted to see her eyes.

"Quinn, look at me," she demanded gently and nudged her shoulder so the blonde would have to lift her head. Soft lips were grazing her neck, not fully kissing her but distracting her nonetheless. Rachel surpressed a moan, knowing she needed to see her eyes. They changed with her moods and anyone who really knew Quinn, meaning the few who took the time, knew what each shade meant.

"No, I can't. We can...we can just keep going," she said unelloquently.

"If I can't have all of you I don't want to," Rachel replied with certainty and gently took her other hand and pulled Quinn's head up to her level, her right hand held onto a slim hip and moved Quinn into her, flushed against her own hips.

Hazel eyes, strong as ever with slivers of gold were staring back at her. She was watching Quinn post-Beth, simply a more mature version without the intense mood swings. The withdrawl was still so essentially Quinn and Rachel wanted the barriers gone, including space as she moved the blonde closer to her, into her world.

Their eyes were locked on, unwavering and unashamed in their intensity and ability to tune out the world. Rachel felt her chest tighten. It was so cliche. Quinn looked like she was quickly fraying and everything in Rachel's mind was telling her to fix it. Just fix it! Tears were forming at the corners of Quinn's eyes again, making them appear even more green, and the blonde turned her head, delicately pushing them away with the base of her palm. The action was so beautifully graceful that the brunette's throat tightened as well.

"Oh beautiful, come here," she said pulling her closer, always closer. Purposefully showing Quinn she had no intention of rejecting her, though she felt the woman's physical resistance at being comforted, laced with the refusal to give in completely. "Please don't do this," Rachel whispered and kissed near the blonde's fairy like ears.

Once upon a time Rachel thought that Quinn was other wordly. She hadn't stopped thinking it.

"I'm not doing anything."

'That's kind of my point. You've checked out."

"You have one love," she countered quickly, slightly defensively and watched a frown deeply settle across tan features. "Broadway," she clarified. "I just...I don't think there's room in you life for me." It was on the tip of her tongue to say the last of her thoughts, but she had her pride and didn't want to be proven right. Rachel had outgrown her. Wasn't the inevitable? Even in high school Rachel was fated for more, right?

"You've been distant for weeks Quinn, you cannot blame this all on me,'' she said moving a bit back.

"What part of us moving in together, getting a demanding, though well paid job to match you said I wasn't in it for the long haul?" She countered, raising her voice.

"Quinn, how was I...I didn't know you didn't like your job. I could support you..."

"No, I won't be like how my mother was for years," she said cutting her off. "And I don't hate my job. It just gets in the way of spending time with you," she ended gently, the bite no longer there.

Rachel softly nodded, having finally gotten to the real issue. Patience was elemental to understanding Quinn and it always took the blonde time to work through her deflections until she finally reached the core.

"Okay,"she said gently.

"That's it? Okay?" She bristled.

"Quinn, I'm busy, I've just been busy." The brunette wanted to add that for weeks she thought she had done something to dismantle their relationship, that Quinn was starting to hate her but didn't want to say it, but it wasn't that. Thank Barbra Streisand it wasn't that.

"Rachel...I get that broadway was your dream and god you deserve tonys," she paused and Rachel caught the plural causing a small smile, "and any roles you want, but...you were my dream. It took me years to prepare myself for you, to be good enough," and she stopped talking because after years of working through her issues she knew in the in the basement of her mind, where monsters and evil things live...that her heart wasn't enough. "I can handle losing my parents, its not much of a loss, but you're my famiily. I can't...and I know I'm not enough."

"Beautiful, you keep pushing me away. I want this, I love you. I need you to let me. I want to love you. I'm terrified but its all I want." Quinn picked herself up from Rachel and put a few inches between so she could look at her. Rachel was stunning. She couldn't find a better book or piece of art that could compare to the woman with her. Before she could stop herself the first thoughts that came to Quinn were being voiced, but she was too distracted by Rachel's soulful eyes to realize it.

"You're in my soul," she half mumbled, half whispered.

"What?" Rachel almost gasped at what the blonde had said, having heard every word. And then it slowly sunk in that Quinn had said it aloud. _Well I'm being honest, might as well commit to it _she thought.

"You're in my soul. You made it stronger. I don't...I love you. I don't say it enough," she said ducking her head back into the brunette's shoulder. Rachel kissed her temple. Loving what comes out of the blonde, how poetic she could be and she knew she didn't steal it from one of her books. That was Quinn, the bold honesty and uncertainty in how to express emotions was her, beautiful in her imperfection that to Rachel was perfection. She lifted Quinn's head to kiss her harder. Lips meeting lips and felt her girlfriend go rigid for a second before releasing the coil inside her.

"You just told me. Now show me," she demanded as she slid her hands back under Quinn's top with every intention of removing everything between them.


End file.
